Lucius' Little Problem
by Wishy
Summary: Something is going on with Lucius Malfoy. He just doesn't know what. Will contain slash and mpreg in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1: Lucius' problem

Disclaimer: None of these characters, etc. belong to me.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Maybe he was tempting fate; drinking himself into oblivion like this. The Dark  
  
Lord was bound to call one of these nights, and you definitely wanted to have you wits  
  
about you when speaking, well groveling to the Dark lord.  
  
Lucius shuddered at the thought of being anything but 100% in the presence of his  
  
Master.  
  
He stared contemplatively at his 4th shot of firewhiskey for a moment and then  
  
downed it and poured another. What on earth was wrong with him? He had never been  
  
prone to excess drinking, even in his youth. But now..  
  
The self preservation instinct which was normally just about the only factor in his  
  
decision making was screaming frantically at him to stop. But Lucius was operating on  
  
autopilot, and, if he had had the faintest idea what autopilot was, he certainly would have  
  
made the same analogy. But, being that Malfoys did not hold with such muggle  
  
nonsense, he felt more like he was under the imperious curse, watching desperately as he  
  
performed acts against his will. Unable to control..  
  
Lucius yanked his thoughts abruptly from THAT road. He didn't think about he  
  
past and he didn't look back. So, with nothing better to do, as he downed several more  
  
shots, he wondered again what in Merlin's name he was doing??!  
  
'I must be loosing it, he thought to himself.  
  
No, no that wasn't it, although the Malfoys did have quite a history of insanity.  
  
He saw the signs in his young son Draco.  
  
'Damn Draco and his blind devotion to the Dark Lord!'  
  
Hold on! Where had THAT thought come from? Hadn't he always wanted his  
  
weakling son to follow in his fathers footsteps? Wow, he must have had WAY more to  
  
drink than he thought.  
  
Lucius watched idly as his unsteady hand topped off another glass. Whatever. At  
  
least his hair was still pretty. Lucius giggled slightly at this thought and then clapped a  
  
hand over his mouth. Malfoys did NOT giggle! But those damn giggles just kept  
  
escaping through his fingers. Lucius grabbed his shot glass, desperate to drown the  
  
giggles. He had not, however, accounted for his current lack of balance.  
  
It was several moments before he made the connection between being on the floor  
  
and falling off his chair.  
  
'I'm on the floor'  
  
'I was in my chair'  
  
'I am on the floor?'  
  
'Wasn't I in the chair?'  
  
'Floor'  
  
'Chair'  
  
'Floor..'  
  
'I fell out of the chair!'  
  
This was NOT helping his giggle problem. The rational portion of his mind  
  
realized he must be quite a sight; obviously drunk and laughing his head off on the floor.  
  
But the irrational and currently quite dominant part of his mind continued to find the  
  
situation, and quite anything, hilariously giggle worthy.  
  
And this was how Narcissa Malfoy found her husband 15 minutes later. 


	2. Chapter 2: Narcissa

Chapter 2  
  
'Ick,' was Lucius' first coherent thought upon waking the next morning. It was quickly  
  
followed, however by, 'oh shit',  
  
'Shit, shit shit.'  
  
Lucius shot strait up in bed and immediately regretted it. Groaning, he dragged  
  
himself to the bathroom and mechanically downed a hangover potion. It didn't help all  
  
that much. Damn, he'd been taking to may of them lately.  
  
'Shit,' he thought as he stared at his haggard face in the mirror. Memories of the night  
  
before filtered unevenly into his consciousness. Laughing hysterically on the floor?  
  
Unbelievable! What had the untouchable Mr. Malfoy reduced himself to?  
  
He scoffed at his grisly reflection.  
  
And then . Narcissa. 'Shit.' She was the cause for his disgustingly plebian  
  
language this morning. Lucius groaned and banged his head on the ornate sink. He was  
  
so toast. 'Why did I marry that idiot anyways?"  
  
The thought startled him. For power of course! Narcissa came from the wealthy  
  
pureblood family of Black. She was useful only in promoting his status and giving him  
  
the expected, beautiful Malfoy heir. To bad she was such a gossip. Several times in the  
  
past, Lucius had received the fleeting impression that perhaps his wife wasn't as stupid as  
  
she acted and it worried him. Outwardly she was girly and shallow, marrying for the  
  
same reasons he had, wealth and position. But there was something calculating behind  
  
her eyes. Something about the way she placed her unyielding devotion to the dark Lord  
  
above all else; about the way she completely ignored there son after his birth. It  
  
reminded him of her sister, Bellatrix Lestrange, and that was, quite frankly, extremely  
  
disquieting.  
And now she had walked in on him, in a moment of extreme weakness.  
  
'Shit'  
Lucius knew the information would find its way back to the Dark Lord. Damn  
  
Narcissa. And Damn him for not being more discrete, more careful.  
  
Jumping, Lucius realized he'd been resting his head on the sink for 10 minutes.  
  
Crap! He had to get to work; he was late as it was. He stumbled out of the bathroom to  
  
find Narcissa standing in his doorway (yes his doorway. They hadn't shared a bedroom  
  
for, well, ever) casually filing her nails. Great now she's on patrol, Lucius thought to  
  
himself, walking over into his enormous closet as quickly as possible without running.  
  
Narcissa watched, dispassionately, as he spent much longer than usual restoring his usual  
  
pristine Malfoy appearance. It was getting more and more difficult these days.  
  
"Wouldn't you like breakfast this morning, my husband?"  
  
Lucius sent her a glare and she quickly amended her wording  
  
"Pardon me, My Lord"  
  
'Is she smirking at me?'  
  
"I haven't the time this morning Narcissa," he said as he gathered himself to apparate.  
  
It was the truth; he really hadn't the time. No need to mention the fact that he  
  
didn't think he could have eaten anyways. Just the thought of food made his stomach  
  
turn.  
Fighting the urge to vomit, Lucius stepped out of the Ministry's designated  
  
apparition point. If the guard noticed he had appeared nearly two feet outside the area  
  
marker, he didn't say anything.  
  
'Well of course not! I'm a Malfoy after all!"  
  
Still botching an apparition. Something must be really getting to him. He just  
  
didn't know what it was. 


	3. Chapter 3: Rita Skeeter

Chapter 3  
  
Rita Skeeter cursed rather rudely as she examined her usually perfectly  
  
manicured, mannish hands. She's just broken her nail on the end of her large, garish  
  
purse.  
  
"Unbreakable polish my ass!" she thought to herself as several curious faces peered in  
  
her direction.  
  
A sickly sinister smile and the retrieval of her handy quick quotes quill solved that  
  
problem. She watched hungrily as the faces turned hastily away, scuttling out of her  
  
path and taking their bodies with them.  
  
A story. She needed a story.  
  
It had been a particularly horrible past couple of days. She'd followed a dead end  
  
lead on Cornelius Fudge. AGAIN. It seemed like that happened every other week. But  
  
the headline,  
  
"Ministry Corruption behind Closed Doors," was just too good to pass up.  
  
On this particular occasion, she'd found that rumors of Fudge disappearing every  
  
Wednesday morning to an undisclosed location were completely founded in truth for a  
  
change. She had hopefully followed Fudge, yesterday morning, to investigate her  
  
source's information on his supposed secret meetings with foreign ministers to secure  
  
power hungry alliances. It had been disappointing, to say the least, to find that Fudge  
  
was, instead, practicing water polo at the local muggle gym. Still, it made for interesting  
  
facts for later usage.  
  
Back to the problem at hand; she still had no story.  
  
It was becoming more and more difficult to obtain information these days.  
  
It was almost impossible to secure interviews. After escaping that Granger girl's  
  
clutches, she had been forced to assume a false name, and to skirt public activities.  
  
Despite all of her precautions, the girl had managed to uncover two of her newly adopted  
  
identities.  
  
Today she was taking an incredible risk by publicly entering the Ministry of  
  
Magic. True, she had the cover of an appointment with the animagus registration office.  
  
There would be nothing holding her back after that damn Granger had nothing to  
  
blackmail her with. Oh no! And no one ever read the Registered Animagus List  
  
anyways, no one would know. Plus, she could afford (barely) a little bribery to keep it  
  
quiet.  
  
Rita smiled eagerly and clicked 9 of her nails along the rim of her purse. She  
  
needed a good story; One that she could follow quietly until she was officially registered.  
  
Something HUGE..  
  
And that's when she happened to witness the unflappable Mr. Malfoy apparate a  
  
full two feet outside the designated apparition area.  
  
'Interesting...' 


	4. Chapter 4

Note: this story in AU in that it is pre Ootp  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Lucius watched bemusedly as Fudge bumbled his way through yet another  
  
mindless meeting with his most trusted advisors. He resisted the urge to smirk,  
  
wondering idly just how much influence he actually held over each individual sitting  
  
before him, and just how much more influence he could have exerted had he not joined  
  
the service of the Dark Lord. He didn't even bother to reprimand himself for his  
  
wayward thoughts; they occurred so often these days.  
  
After his somewhat less than graceful exit from the board of governors of  
  
Hogwarts School, Lucius had tapped into his wonderful reserves and easily secured a  
  
position of some authority in the ministry. Fudge was so easy to manipulate it bordered  
  
on ridiculous. He scarcely noticed the Malfoy sphere of influence permeating his  
  
administration; although many others did. Following the untimely death of Mr.  
  
Bartemius Crouch Sr., Lucius had been promoted to head of the Department of  
  
International Magical Relations, a position for which he was somewhat excessively  
  
qualified due to his....ah... diplomatic skill and authority. And, to top it all off, to  
  
Lucius' utmost satisfaction he had inherited his predecessor's personal assistant, Percival  
  
Weasly.  
  
The senior Malfoy suppressed a grin as he gazed nonchalantly at the other heads  
  
of various departments who were currently debating over meaningless muggle drabble.  
  
Alright, so the Weasly boy might be a ridiculous stickler for the rules, something Lucius might not have valued in an assistant... And Merlin knew his obnoxious devotion  
  
to his work bordered on heavily irritating, but it was all worth it; to flaunt it in Arthur  
  
Weasly's face... To feed Percival tiny amounts of power... to make him nearly worship a  
  
Malfoy...  
  
Lucius indulged in a malicious smile and then returned his attention to the  
  
meeting; temporarily forgetting about the tiny phase (yes a phase that was definitely what  
  
it was) he appeared to be passing through. He was even grateful to get his mind off the  
  
subject.  
..................................  
  
Hours later, Lucius', dare we say happy mood had evaporated and his temporary  
  
return to normalcy was all but forgotten. In the dark cradle of the Malfoy's formidable  
  
study a house elf tentatively clutched a rather substantial bottle of whatever alcohol he (or  
  
she, it was rather hard to tell) had pilfered from the cellar, hopefully without alerting  
  
Narcissa. With trembling little hands, it placed the bottle on its customary small side  
  
table before the fire, and then scuttled off as fast as its spindly little legs could carry it.  
  
'Stupid mindless being,' Lucius thought to himself, more out of habit than anything else.  
  
The beverage glittered dangerously by the firelight.  
  
'Merlin how he wanted it!'  
  
He wanted to taste it, to feel it running down through his innards before rising  
  
subtly up to befuddle his thoughts.  
  
'When did I become so dependent?'  
  
The question echoed in Lucius' mind. For a Malfoy, dependence was among the deepest layers of sin, the ultimate position of failure, of lowliness and filth. The need to  
  
drink was sickening in its power, the epitome of unMalfoyish behavior. The wrongness  
  
of what he was doing grated against Lucius being, disgusting and yet desperately calling  
  
to him at the same time.  
  
He raked a hand though his hair and stared, with deceptive calm at the glass  
  
before him..  
  
'Wait! Hold on a moment; when had he poured that?'  
  
Lucius recoiled as if struck and fell into his lavish armchair. He stared at that  
  
little glass and his face was again forced into it's usual mask of serenity. Oblivious to  
  
anything and everything around him, he stared, transfixed at the crystal, whilst an inner  
  
battle raged. Thoughts scampered across his consciousness.  
  
'He couldn't... Narcissa and the Dark Lord... this was madness... ... maybe just one  
  
glass, just a small taste to calm his nerves and ease his headache...'  
  
Lucius remained motionless for a small eternity before, ever so slowly, a hand  
  
stretched out towards the liquid. His turmoil was betrayed only by the shaking of his  
  
hand as the pale fingers closed clumsily about the glass. The glass rose, ever so slowly  
  
towards his hungry lips......  
  
"My, my Lucius, I never would have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes: a  
  
Malfoy losing his control? Tsk tsk."  
  
The voice cut through the dimness of the study with all the warning of a stab in  
  
the back. The glass slipped and fell for an age before shattering, splintering into a  
  
thousand pieces that tinkled to the floor. 


End file.
